


Run

by ticktockclockwork



Series: The Life and Times of Tick the Tock [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork





	Run

Somewhere between mid afternoon tea and midnight Chinese take-away, John and Sherlock had gotten absolutely smashed. He couldn’t remember quite how it happened, or where it even started, he just remembered Sherlock proposing an experiment and John proposing a challenge and Sherlock failing whatever he’d accepted. John figured that bit out because as he slammed his taller roommate up against the bathroom door he was feeling both incredibly turned on and ridiculously victorious. 

The shower curtain stood no chance as they were even less careful tearing off each others clothes. It just joined the piled of ruined clothing on the floor. The shower was turned on full blast, as hot as it could get and John, in a fit of control, shoved Sherlock in. Sherlock was being surprisingly compliant and while John would otherwise wonder what the change in personality was coming from, right now he didn’t give two tits and rather enjoyed the was Sherlock pressed himself to the wet tiles and spread his legs. Yes. Just like that. 

John climbed in and pressed up the his back, raking blunt nails down his too visible ribs and enjoying the red trails that marked the flushed skin. Sherlock, surprisingly vocal, tipped his head back, getting half his hair wet, the spray hitting John against his shoulder. The deep moan echoed off the bathroom walls and John reveled in them reaching around to slip his fingers around Sherlock’s cock and draw more music from his throat. They had neither the time nor patience for prep and so John knew this would be quick and dirty and he was completely okay with that. Sherlock tried to turn his face but John pressed it back to the tile, fingers locking in that dark hair, twisting like a tether to Sherlock. Sherlock responded loudly, reaching back to hold John’s hand in place. John returned his focus to Sherlock’s cock, thumb running over the head, pressing down. He smiled as Sherlock made more noise, amazed at just how vocal he was being. 

Then again, John didn’t often take control. 

The switch itself must be hitting Sherlock as hard as John’s hand movements. He rutted himself against Sherlock’s ass, hips pressing, teasing, building friction as he pumped his hand. They moved in a messy dance, nothing in sync, nothing cohesive. It was entirely them though, their entirety. Nothing fit, nothing flowed yet they were perfect together, always were. Sherlock tightened his hand around John’s and moaned, head tipping back as his other one grabbed at John’s hip. There would be bruises and more were still to come but all too soon, Sherlock was shouting something out that sounded vaguely insulting in some Eastern European language and John was coming hard against his hip. He dragged Sherlock to his edge and held him there till the taller was DEFINITELY insulting him in some Eastern European language and then he let him tumble over, not at all graceful but beautiful nonetheless. 

They ended up in a pile in the tub, the shower still going and the basin filling slowly. Sherlock had his arms propped on the lip of the tub with one leg hanging over at the knee while John was laying lazily between his lets, following the primrose path made by the startling blue veins beneath Sherlock’s pale skin. They were sobering up slowly but John was in no rush to end it. He could lay like this forever, head still spinning as it always did when he ran the battlefield with Sherlock.


End file.
